


Perfect Blend

by Tevokkia



Series: Perfect Blend [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tea Shop, Army Veteran McCree, M/M, Shop Owner Hanzo, Tea. All the tea., gratuitous fluff, service dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-10 21:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tevokkia/pseuds/Tevokkia
Summary: It was a Tuesday afternoon and particularly quiet as Hanzo Shimada perched on his stool behind the counter of Hanamura Fine Teas, only paying partial attention to the magazine he was reading. Or rather, looked like he was reading. His mind was elsewhere in that unfocused sort of way that happened sometimes, where if anyone had asked him what he was thinking about, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them.The door chimed and Hanzo looked up, first glad for the distraction and then slightly startled as a dog walked into his shop. It took him a full three seconds to register the service vest it was wearing, and he immediately quashed the initial protests that had attempted to make its way to his mouth, eyes flicking over from the vest to the pair of cowboy boots that had followed the dog in, traveling past some sort of western wear to a ruggedly handsome face that suddenly had all of his attention.





	1. Blend One: Desert Spice

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a very different story, but hey, things happen. It's probably also the only time you'll ever see me start posting something before it's finished.

It was a Tuesday afternoon and particularly quiet as Hanzo Shimada perched on his stool behind the counter of Hanamura Fine Teas, only paying partial attention to the magazine he was reading. Or rather, looked like he was reading. His mind was elsewhere in that unfocused sort of way that happened sometimes, where if anyone had asked him what he was thinking about, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them.  


While he enjoyed his peace and quiet -- something that his move to San Francisco last year had allowed him to have for the first time in his life -- there was a such thing as too peaceful and too quiet.  


The door chimed and Hanzo looked up, first glad for the distraction and then slightly startled as a dog walked into his shop. It took him a full three seconds to register the service vest it was wearing, and he immediately quashed the initial protests that had attempted to make its way to his mouth, eyes flicking over from the vest to the pair of cowboy boots that had followed the dog in, traveling past some sort of western wear to a ruggedly handsome face that suddenly had all of his attention.  


The man looked slightly careworn, eyes bearing both laugh lines and the sort of dark circles underneath that indicated habitual poor sleep, and he glanced about the shop with curious trepidation, hovering in the entryway as if he weren't sure how to proceed. Hanzo mentally kicked himself to go greet him, sliding out from behind the counter and walking toward the door.  


"Good afternoon. How may I help you?" He stopped short, careful to give the man and his dog several feet of space. An instant of panic followed by relief briefly washed over the man's face as he turned his head toward Hanzo.  


"Well howdy," he answered, stepping a little further inside with a warm smile that seemed to light up his whole face, his dog walking just slightly ahead of him. "I'm, uhhhh, lookin' for a present for someone. She likes tea, an' I saw your shop, but I don't know anything about ..." He trailed off almost apologetically as he waved a prosthetic hand in the general direction of the shelves full of meticulously labeled sample canisters in a helpless sort of gesture.  


Hanzo chose to ignore the way the man's smoky drawl made the back of his neck heat up and he nodded, stepping aside to gesture further into the shop. "I'll be happy to help you choose something for your friend. Would you like to browse the samples for something that smells appealing to you, or would you rather sit down and tell me a bit about your friend so we can explore some options together?"  


"Wouldn't know what I was lookin' for if I was browsin', darlin'." He transferred the dog’s lead to his prosthetic hand and held his right out for Hanzo to shake, full lips widening once more into a sunny smile. “Name's Jesse, by the way, and this little lady is Oakley." The proffered hand was warm and his handshake firm, lingering perhaps a bit unnecessarily. Hanzo didn't miss the way the cowboy's warm topaz eyes flicked over him before their hands parted.  


"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jesse. My name is Hanzo." He gestured again toward the seating area and definitely did not check out his guest’s backside as he sauntered to the lone table, the sound of his boots heavy against the granite flooring.  


“‘S good t’meet you too.” Jesse sat with his back to the wall, Oakley positioning herself to face the door before laying at his feet. His fingers twitched where they rested on the table. “How about we have a little chat about it an' you can give me your expert opinion?"  


Hanzo pulled out a seat of his own, angling it so that he would be able to respond easily in the unlikely event someone else entered the shop. He leaned forward on his elbows once he had sat down, threading his fingers together. "Excellent. Tell me about your friend, then. Do you know what she likes, or what she usually drinks?"  


Puffing out his cheeks in thought before exhaling heavily, Jesse stroked his beard -- not quite scruffy in a charming sort of way -- as he, too, leaned in, putting his weight on his prosthetic elbow. It felt almost intimate.  


"Mostly she just drinks what her ma makes. Some kind of Egyptian blend? She told me it's traditional, but all I know's it's strong. Maybe a little spicy, like cinnamon and other stuff? And real sweet?"  


"Mmmhmm." Hanzo could listen to Jesse talk all day. "Did you want to get her something similar, or introduce her to something new?"  


"Aw, she drinks that stuff all the time." Jesse stopped stroking his beard to wave his hand in front of his face as if to dismiss the very thought of trying to replicate her usual drink. "I was hoping you could recommend somethin'." Jesse ended the sentence with a grin and a wink, and Hanzo truly hoped the low lighting hid the fact that the flush at the back of his neck had probably crept onto his cheeks.  


"I see." He swallowed hard, steepled his fingers in front of his face as though they would provide some sort of camouflage, and narrowed his eyes in thought, trying not to look like he was staring at Jesse as he did so.  


"Not a traditional chai," he said slowly after a moment, still thinking. "If it tastes like cinnamon, it would most likely be an herbal blend in Egypt, so better to pick another common tea ingredient there - maybe ginger - and run with it. Pair it with some complimentary things less common to the region." He could see Jesse bobbing his head as he spoke with the look of a man trying to appear as though he were following along.  


"Think you might have something like that on hand?" the other man coaxed hopefully after another moment of thoughtful silence.  


"I don't." Jesse's face fell before Hanzo continued. "But I would be happy to custom blend it for you."  


The smile that broke out on Jesse's face was a beam of sunshine in the dim shop, and Hanzo caught himself thinking that he'd be willing to do far more than just blend some tea if a smile like that was his reward.  


"If you could, I'd be beholdin' to ya."  


Hanzo returned the smile, although he knew that his could never match the other man's in radiance. "Nonsense, it's what I'm here for." He stood, then, and stepped behind the counter to pull out the various canisters he would need; a dark Assam tea for the base, candied ginger, cardamom pods ...  


"Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?" he asked while perusing his stock to see whether he wanted to add anything else. Probably rock sugar. Sweetness was his main takeaway from the single time he had been served Egyptian tea, and Jesse had said that his friend drank hers 'real sweet'.  


"Naw, I'm good, thanks. But I wouldn't say no to a bit of water for Oakley."  


Of course. The dog. Hanzo glanced down at her, sitting patiently at Jesse's feet. She was so well-behaved and he was so clearly distracted by her owner's southern charm that he had quite honestly forgotten she was there.  


"Give me a moment to fetch a bowl." Not waiting for a reply, Hanzo sidestepped through the curtain into the back room to get one of his smaller blending bowls and paused to take a few deep breaths before he stepped back out to fill it with cool water.  


"Thanks kindly. Don't mean to put you out none," Jesse said as Hanzo passed him the water to put in front of his dog, who stood up politely to take a drink. "There you go, little lady."  


"It's no trouble," Hanzo replied, washing his hands and pulling out the box of coarse rock sugar. "How much tea would you like?"  


Jesse transferred his gaze from Oakley to Hanzo, looking for all the world like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Floundering for something to say, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee and drumming a beat on the table with restless fingers, his brow furrowed slightly. "Uh, how much is the regular amount?"  


It occurred to Hanzo that if Jesse had ever bought tea in his life, it was probably a box of teabags from the supermarket. What had put the idea in his head to visit a high end tea shop to buy a custom blended loose leaf as a gift was a mystery, but Hanzo was not complaining. He leaned over the counter on his forearms.  


"Well, I sell it in bags that can hold up to three ounces, or as a five ounce gift tin," he explained, reaching a bit to indicate the sample packages at the end of the counter next to the tiny bakery case. "I also have the one ounce sample tin, although that might be small for a gift, and a ten ounce canister, which seems a bit excessive here. An ounce makes about 12 cups of tea," he added. "Although it can vary a bit with the blend and how you prefer to brew it."  


Jesse made a low whistle, head bobbing a bit as he mulled it over. "Well, you said the gift tin was five, so that seems about right. Yeah. That."  


"That sounds excellent. If she really enjoys it, you can always come back and I can make you some more."  


At the other man's enthusiastic nod, Hanzo pushed off the counter and started measuring tea into a clean mixing tin with a little smile, finally concentrating more on the work than his customer as he pondered ratios and contemplated ingredients. Cloves. A small amount of clove would go well with cardamom and ginger and add an extra layer of spice, as long as he didn't overdo it. It was easy to do with cloves; they had a tendency to overpower other flavors.  


Hanzo let himself glance at Jesse every so often while he worked. His customer was watching him intently, although whether it was with curiosity or something else, Hanzo couldn't be sure. Every now and then, Jesse's eyes flicked to the front door, but Oakley was still watching it diligently and his posture remained relaxed. At one point, Jesse cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck when Hanzo had caught him watching, his gaze likely only shifting elsewhere while Hanzo’s eyes were upon him.  


It wasn't too long before Hanzo had finished. He brewed two cups of the new blend, setting one down in front of Jesse and then settling back in his own seat. Jesse threw him a questioning look.  


"For me to know how it tastes before it leaves my shop, and for you to know what you're buying and judge whether it's what you wanted." Hanzo raised the steaming cup to his lips, inhaling the spicy aroma before taking a tentative sip. "Careful, it's quite hot."  


"Well thank ya' kindly, darlin'." Jesse raised his cup as in a toast, brought it to his face to sniff experimentally, and took a generous gulp of the scalding beverage.  


Hanzo started, expecting a yelp, or a cough, or a _something_ in response to the heat, but it never came. He stared at Jesse, eyes wide, his own cup hovering just below his chin in the middle of an aborted move to drink from it.  


"That's mighty nice," Jesse drawled, clicking his tongue once as he looked into the cup. "Mighty nice indeed. Told ya' I'm a coffee man m'self, but this has a good kick to it. 'Ree'll like this a lot."  


Hanzo cleared his throat, the shock falling from his features. "I'm glad to hear it. I take it you don't allow your coffee to cool, either," he added mildly, finally finishing raising his cup to sip gingerly at it. Jesse might enjoy burning his tongue, but he did not.  


"That I don't." Jesse's eyes crinkled in a grin that Hanzo couldn't quite see around his mug before taking another drink. "'s just not right if it's not pipin' hot."  


"It is a wonder you still have taste buds." Hanzo gave a wry chuckle.  


They finished their drinks while making small talk -- how long the shop had been open; yes, Hanzo had painted all of the wall scrolls himself; the fact Jesse worked at a hobby shop nearby; Oakley was an Australian Shepherd mix -- as Jesse seeming to be in zero hurry to pay for his purchase and be on his way. Hanzo was in zero hurry to ring up his purchase and send him on his way, so this worked out nicely. Eventually, though, he stood and collected the long-empty mugs, setting them behind the counter to be washed later.  


"Can I get you anything else?" he asked, his gaze on Jesse hopeful as he measured the tea into the gift tin, named the blend on impulse, and printed out the label for it. What was the etiquette in this situation? Would it be strange for him to ask the man out to have coffee? Or something? They had just had tea … could he just ask for Jesse’s number or would that be weird? Could he be forward enough to do so?.  


Jesse had stood and come to lean on the counter. He chewed on his lip as his eyes met Hanzo's, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something. In the end, he cleared his throat and suddenly found the bonsai next to the register very interesting indeed.  


"Naw," he said quietly, eyes flicking up once and then back to the tree with a little huff and a shy smile. "Thanks."  


Hanzo tried to keep his disappointment from showing as he rang up the tin of tea and gently placed it into a gift bag. He wondered whether Jesse had been having the same moment of panic as himself. Their fingers brushed when Jesse handed over his credit card, and again when Hanzo returned it. The touch lingered as he held the gift bag out to Jesse and he took it, both of them looking at their hands for a couple of beats as neither Hanzo moved to let go nor Jesse moved to pull away.  


Hanzo gave a little cough as he looked up to catch Jesse's gaze, finally withdrawing his hand.  


"Make sure you come see me again, even if it's just to tell me how your friend liked her tea."  


Jesse's face brightened as he drew the bag across the counter. "I'll be sure to do that, darlin'. Thanks a bunch."  


Hanzo watched him and Oakley go, heaving a sigh once the door had closed behind them and he could no longer see them through the picture windows.  


At least now he had something to think about on an otherwise dull Tuesday, his mind already wandering to that husky drawl and sunshine smile as he cleaned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tea Facts Nobody Asked For:** While most Westerners don't really think of Egypt as a country that's synonymous with tea, Egyptians actually have the third highest tea consumption per capita among Middle Eastern countries at around 1kg in 2016, which comes out to over 450 cups per person per year on average. It's the national drink, far outstripping coffee in populari-tea (lol I know, I'm lame).
> 
> The tea blend that Hanzo made was intended to give the general impression of an Egyptian tea while sill being very different: the Assam he used as a base would have been grown in India, while Egyptian tea is mainly imported from Kenya and Sri Lanka (but mostly Kenya). The ingredients for herbal tisanes - the flavor profile of which Hanzo was mimicking for Desert Spice - are often domestic crops. Chamomile and hibiscus are especially common. Black tea isn't usually mixed with spices, which makes Desert Spice more of an Egyptian-inspired Chai. 
> 
> Egyptian black tea is served very sweet, though! _Koshary_ is a weak, light tea (the English would be scandalized) served with copious amounts of sugar and sometimes a little milk, while _Saiidi_ is a very dark, heavy tea (using about four times the amount of tea leaves per cup as _Koshary_!) that needs the sugar to mask the bitterness and probably looks like tar. Hanzo did not much enjoy the _Saiidi_ he drank, and took his _Koshary_ without milk.


	2. Blend Two: Lapsang Souchong

Jesse slid into the booth across from Fareeha Amari and set his bag on the seat next to him, Oakley settling at his feet beneath the table. They met at their favorite taqueria every week unless something came up -- more than once if Fareeha had the extra time and Jesse needed the company. It was a lively little hole in the wall, practically a food truck that had moved indoors and hired a waitress, and a wide variety of dubious-looking hot sauces populated the condiment bar next to the counter.

"Aw, you couldn't even wait for me?" Jesse teased as Fareeha looked up from her tablet, mouth already full of chips and salsa. She snorted in response before swallowing.

"Not my fault you were late," she answered, pushing the tablet aside and pausing to take a sip of her cola before reaching for another chip. "Everything alright?"

"Everythin's fine, just had to take a little detour before comin' down." Jesse helped himself to the basket in the middle of the table, scooping out a generous helping of salsa. "Anythin' new with you?"

Fareeha shrugged, gesturing with the chip she was holding. "No, nothing too out of the ordinary. Shift bid is in a few weeks." She shoved the whole thing in her mouth, chewing contemplatively as the waitress came over to take Jesse's drink order. "I am thinking of switching to graveyard," she added when the waiter had gone.

"Yeah?" Jesse frowned a little, brows furrowing as he stole a sip of Fareeha’s cola and she batted his arm away. "Why's that?"

"Just wanted a change," she answered, stirring her reclaimed drink with her straw and looking at the basket of chips, the menu she never bothered to read anymore, the salt and pepper in their Corona bottle shakers on the table ... anything but Jesse. "Thought maybe working nights would be interesting. I would get an extra day off, too, since the shifts are ten hours, eight at night until six in the morning."

Jesse made a face of disgust, but quickly wiped it away when the waitress showed up once more with his drink. He ordered their usual, giving Fareeha the side eye as he did so, and leaned forward on his elbow once they were alone again. "This have anythin' to do with that cute doctor you said you been chattin' with? She doin' nights in the ER or somethin'?"

"What? No!" Fareeha straightened up suddenly, startled. "No, we are not like that yet. And she is not working nights. Or in the ER."

Jesse just snorted. "Just figured she musta' been in the ER, 'cause where else does a cop meet a doctor that ain't their own?"

"I do get out sometimes, you know. And not just with you." She reached across the table to punch Jesse playfully in the chest, voice filled with mock seriousness.

"Hey, come on, Ree," Jesse chuckled, moving the small bag he had brought from the seat next to him to the table. "Why you gotta beat me up when I brought ya' a present an' everything?"

Fareeha's eyes lit up. "Thank you! But what for?" she asked, leaning back in the seat and pulling the bag over. "Was this your detour?"

"Just because I felt like it, and naw, I picked it up yesterday. Had to drop some papers by your Ma's office today," Jesse answered, twining his flesh fingers with his bionic ones behind his head. "C'mon, open it up."

Moving aside the tissue paper in the bag, Fareeha drew out the silver tin with its embossed sakura-blossom logo and peered at the label a moment before carefully prying off the lid to sniff experimentally. "Tea? Since when do you buy fancy tea?"

"Since yesterday." Fareeha eyed Jesse with suspicion as he took his turn finding their surroundings very interesting indeed.

"Well ... it smells very good. So. What prompted this?" One dark eyebrow, partially clipped by a small scar, was raised as Fareeha slowly set the tea tin back on the table and steepled her fingers. "Going out of your way to buy a gift with no specific occasion attached? Just because you felt like it? One that seems entirely unlike you?" Her grin had turned wolfish and her voice teasing now, Jesse starting to turn slightly red as he studiously continued not looking at her.

There was a long pause as Jesse took a deep drink of his soda, sucking half of it down in one go. He glanced at her once, looked away as he sucked down the other half, and glanced furtively again at her gleeful expression before clumping the cup down on the edge of the table for a refill with an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, shoot, Ree, can't I just get ya' something nice for no reason?"

"Jess, if you were going to get me something nice for no reason on any normal day, it would not be fancy loose-leaf tea. Spill."

Jesse exhaled through his nose. "So ... y'know that hipster district a little ways away from the hobby store? There's this tea shop there, an' I happened to see this real pretty fella goin' in an' out a few times when I was cuttin' through on my way to the shelter." If his face had been turning red before, it had gone into overdrive now. "So I, uh, went in to take a look an' see if he was there?"

"You did not." Fareeha smirked. "So what happened?"

"Well, he was there. Guess he works there or owns it or somethin'? Anyway, he came over to ask if I needed anythin' an' I don't know nothin' about this fancy stuff so I said I was buyin' a present an' just picked the first person that came to mind when he asked what kind of present I was lookin' for."

Fareeha snorted, pulling her drink close and playing with the straw as the waitress picked up Jesse's empty one in passing. "So? Was he as good looking up close? Was he nice? Did you get his number?"

"Aw man, he was even better up close, all eyeliner and undercut and earrings but still lookin' all elegant, y'know? Coulda' been an angel for all I know, he was so damn pretty. Real smart, well-spoken, patient with my fumblin’ not knowin’ what I was doin’ in there. He made me a cup a' tea to try it an' didn' even blink about getting somethin' for Oakley an' had this nice li'l smile that kept sneakin' out ..." Jesse grinned, a little sideways, as he rambled, stopping when his drink was replaced and a large platter of carnitas was set on the table between them. “Kinda’ wish I knew if he was just bein’ as sweet as he was ‘cause I was a customer, though.”

It was difficult to keep from chuckling, but Fareeha managed as they both helped themselves to the food. "You still did not answer my question: did you get his number?"

Jesse stopped mid-chew, somehow still looking sheepish with his mouth full. Fareeha got the hint.

"You mean you went in, talked to this guy, bought some probably-expensive tea just as an excuse to be there, and liked him enough to keep talking about him for the entire time we were waiting for our food, and you did not get his number?!"

Turning red again as he swallowed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck, Jesse grimaced. "Well, y'know, he was workin', an' I didn' wanna be that guy that assumes someone is into ya just 'cause they're bein' polite, and I don’ even know if he swings that way, and I also jus' kinda' ... chickened out."

Fareeha stared at him with a deadpan expression, taking a deliberate bite of her food and chewing it in a slow, exaggerated fashion as her eyes pinned him to the booth. Jesse shoved a carnita into his mouth whole, staring back. The showdown lasted until he managed to finish the huge mouthful and Fareeha huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes.

"You will just have to go in again, then, will you not?" She held up a hand to quell whatever comment Jesse was opening his mouth to make. "Seriously, Jess, when was the last time you had a date? A real date?"

Jesse shifted uncomfortably and looked down, eyes on his food but not really seeing it. "’Fore I enlisted," he mumbled.

"That is right," Fareeha continued, less forcefully. "You should get out there a little. Have some fun. This is the first time I have ever seen you really interested in someone."

"Well, shoot, Ree, it's just that ..." Jesse trailed off, pushing the carnitas around on his plate. The silence between them lingered until he gave up, reaching down to bury his fingers in the soft ruff at the back of Oakley's neck. The solid warmth of her was comforting pressed against his calf. "It makes me nervous, I guess. I got all these issues, an' bits of me missin', an' I gotta have Oak here with me wherever I go ... who's gonna wanna deal with that? On a first date or a second or long term, or-" He cut himself off and leaned back in the booth, shoulders slumped.

"Oh, Jesse..." Fareeha reached across the table and set her hand over her friend's prosthetic one. "You are a great guy, and you have come such a long way. The right person will not care about those things except to be there to see you through them." She smiled, at the same time warm and concerned. "I know that you had a few rough years--” Jesse rolled his eyes and snorted at the gross understatement “--and things are still difficult sometimes. I have seen it. But everything does not have to _continue_ being difficult. Do something for yourself. Go after something if you want it. You looked so happy telling me about this guy."

"Hanzo." Jesse's gaze rested on her hand over his for a moment before he met her eyes with a wan smile. "His name's Hanzo. An' yer soundin' an awful lot like yer mother."

"So, are you going to get Hanzo's number? Or at least give him yours so you give him the option whether to call and you do not have to worry about being 'that guy'?" Fareeha asked gently. 

Jesse nodded slowly, straightening a bit and taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah," he said, nodding again thoughtfully and looking more confident. "Yeah, that sounds good. I think I'll try that."

"You do that." Fareeha smiled again and withdrew her hand, both of them going back to eating.  
"So, when are you going to see him again?" she asked after several minutes.

"After you drink yerself some o' that tea I brought ya'," Jesse answered around a bite of pork. He swallowed before continuing. "He told me ta' report back with how ya' liked it." He looked considerably brighter after reminding himself that Hanzo had, in fact, asked him to return.

Fareeha threw her head back and laughed, the beads in her black hair clacking together. "He did, did he? I will have to get right on that."

\-------

"Desert Spice? This one is new." Satya Vaswani arched an elegantly shaped brow as she read the blend's description. "Did someone order this, or were you simply inspired?"

"It was a customer," Hanzo answered with a little cough, trying to remain nonchalant under the architect's steely gaze even as he felt the tips of his ears heating up. Those eyes, dark and scrutinizing and he would swear unblinking, never left him as she removed the lid of the sample tin, inhaled deeply, and returned everything to its spot on the shelf, making a minute adjustment with her fingertips so that it was in the exact position she had picked it up from. Satya kept eye contact a moment longer than Hanzo found comfortable. She finally broke it to move to the seating area, heels clicking decisively on the granite.

"I will try it then. With one of those small scones. Also, you are blushing." She crossed her legs at the knee and folded her hands, one with a flawless French manicure and the other an expensive-looking high tech prosthetic, on the table in front of her. "Am I to guess that this customer was pretty, then?"

Hanzo didn't answer right away, instead appearing to focus on filling a teapot with hot water and meticulously measuring the tea blend into a strainer. If his customer had been pretty, he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't admit that to Satya, even though she had become enough of a regular to be one of the few people in this city he would almost call a friend.

Did he consider Jesse pretty? The question came unbidden as he took a scone from the case while the tea steeped. No, he decided. He did not. _But he was beautiful_ , the voice in the back of his head supplied helpfully. Feeling the architect's eyes boring into him, Hanzo batted the little voice away lest he linger on the thought and start turning redder than he already had.

Tea ready, he brought the tray to the table and set it in front of Satya before retrieving the blend he had been drinking from behind the counter and settling in across the table from her, as had become their habit during her twice-weekly visits since he had been open.

"So?" she inquired again after pouring herself a cup and pausing to watch the steam curl toward the ceiling in fragrant wisps.

Hanzo took a long sip: the blend on this one wasn't right yet, but it was a work in progress. The lapsang souchong was too strong and would need to be cut with something else. 

"No, not pretty." He pretended to ignore the way Satya's eyes were boring into him again over the rim of her cup, and held out for an entire minute and a half. "Alright, he was gorgeous," he relented with a huff, part of him relieved to have someone to tell. The other part of him was desperately trying to hold that part back from all-out gushing to Satya. 

Satya hummed as she sipped delicately at her tea. "This is good. Sweet, but good. Perhaps you might consider also offering it without the rock sugar." Her lips quirked as Hanzo's head bobbed in both thanks and agreement, pleased that she had moved on to another topic. "So. Tell me about him."

Hanzo's face fell, and he rolled his eyes once before he lost the fight he had been waging with himself. He huffed, but couldn't keep his lips from twitching into an indulgent grin.

"He had the brightest smile," Hanzo began, setting down his cup. "I have never seen a smile like that. And his voice I could feel as much as hear, smokey and rich, and his eyes are so warm..." He smiled wistfully before clearing his throat. "He is a flirt that winks and uses pet names, but I could not tell if it was because he liked me, or if it is something he does with everyone he speaks to." 

Satya gazed at him with a satisfied smirk, her elbows on the table and her hands folded beneath her chin. "He has clearly made an impression on you," she commented finally. "In fact, you seem quite smitten. I take it that you did not ask him for a date?”

“He was a customer,” Hanzo complained, almost plaintive. He sighed and shot Satya a dubious look, a fingertip idly tracing the rim of his cup. “Is that something you can do?”

“I can not, regrettably, be of any help to you on the topic, as I am not particularly knowledgeable in that area myself. I can assure you that Amelie is, however, and suggest that you ask her for advice.” Satya’s smirk hadn’t lessened as she picked a non-existent speck off of her sleeve. “Of course, there is also the little matter of actually seeing him again. It is clear you did not get his contact information, which would be required for you to 'make a move', so to speak."

Hanzo groaned and hid his face behind his hand; he had never heard such sheer smugness in the architect's voice before. "Please do not tell Amelie," he begged. "As you said, I may not see him again, and it would be a moot point. And she is just so ... judgemental." The last came out with a definite grimace, his chest constricting at the mere thought of the cosmopolitan French boutique owner from across the street involving herself. A single look at Jesse's rugged faux-cowboy look would probably send her cackling right back to her shop.

Satya actually laughed at this. "Judgemental? So am I. As are you, so you are one to talk. I will not tell her now." She took the last sip from her cup, having finished the tiny, two-bite scone while Hanzo was waxing poetic. "If you should meet him again, however, you should at least consider seeking her counsel. Thank you for the tea."

Hanzo got the distinct feeling that he had been dismissed inside his own store as he rang up Satya's purchases and she left to return to work at her firm a few streets over, where things were a bit more metropolitan. He resolved to be better at keeping himself in check when Amelie eventually came in (hopefully already having gotten it out would help), but admitted that if he did happen to see Jesse again, perhaps a chat with her on the topic would be in order. Maybe. Probably not.

\-------

Amelie did not find out that week: she was far too busy complaining about her ex-husband to concern herself with what Hanzo was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tea Facts Nobody Asked For:** (okay that's a lie a few of y'all did ask for them) Lapsang Souchong is a smoked oolong tea originating from the Wuyi Shan region of China, although it is now also produced in Taiwan. The story goes that in the 17th century, the Qing army invaded the region, causing the villagers to have to flee. Those who had advanced notice dried their tea leaves quickly on fires made from freshly-cut pinewood and buried them for safekeeping before going, however. When they returned, they considered the dark, woodsy tea with its smoke flavor as ruined, but Dutch traders coming through the area loved it and wanted more.
> 
> Lapsang Souchong has enjoyed high status in various places around the world, and was reportedly a favorite of Winston Churchill (maybe it reminded him of his cigars?). It can be very good paired with citrus flavors, and I usually use it as a base for tea eggs or savory soups (it gives a great umami flavor for vegetarian and vegan recipes). Tea eggs are awesome, by the way; if you’ve never tried one, you need to get yourself a pot, some eggs, and a recipe, ‘cause you’re missing out. There’s a simple recipe below.
> 
> Hanzo doesn't actually use Lapsang Souchong very often, as it's smoky flavor can be very overpowering. Used in just the right blend, though, it can be the exact touch needed. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> **Tea Eggs**  
>  _(slightly modified from a recipe found in the Times of India)_  
>  Ingredients: 6 eggs, 1 tablespoon sea salt, 2 tablespoons tea leaves, water for boiling 
> 
> Instructions:  
> \--Add eggs to about 3 cups of water and boil for 8 minutes. Allow to cool  
> \--When eggs are cool enough to handle, crack the shells all over, but do not peel if you want a pretty marbled effect. Make sure you get the membrane underneath the shell, too: if it remains intact, the flavor of the tea in your eggs will be very weak. If you just want a strongly-flavored tea egg and are not concerned about marbling, go ahead and peel your eggs (nowadays i peel them)  
> \--Return your eggs to the water with the salt and tea leaves. Add more water if needed, and simmer on low for about an hour  
> \--Peel if you didn’t do so before, and enjoy! For a stronger flavor, transfer the eggs and tea to the refrigerator and let soak overnight.  
> \--You can add other flavors to your tea eggs too! I’ve seen recipes that use cloves, cinnamon, peppercorn, garlic, onions, or orange peel when the eggs are simmering


	3. Blend Three: Keemun Earl Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again. The tea is organic.

Jesse bid Bastion goodbye, the quiet Chief Caretaker at the animal shelter waving him off before turning his attention back to the injured parakeet that someone had brought in last week. It had been a good day; Jesse and Oakley had managed to exercise all of the large dogs in residence, helped calm a frightened terrier that Animal Control had brought in, and socialized a litter of feral kittens the shelter hadn't found a foster home for yet.

Jesse was feeling accomplished. Confident. Maybe today would be the day that he stopped by the tea shop again and talked to Hanzo: Fareeha had texted him over the weekend to say that the tea was delicious, followed by a wink emoticon and instructions to "get moving," so he even had a valid reason to go.

He continued psyching himself up as he walked the distance from the shelter to Rose Street, where Hanamura Fine Tea nestled among the other shops in the quaint, vintage neighborhood. A thought struck him as he passed the record store that had recently expanded: what if Hanzo wasn’t working today? What would he say if someone else was there? Would he just walk out? 

With some effort, Jesse managed to get his racing mind under control, Oakley pressing against his leg in reassurance. There was no reason to assume Hanzo wouldn't be there; he had been working last Tuesday, and this one should be no different. Besides that, he could always just ask when Hanzo would be working next if someone else turned out to be there. No need to come up with an elaborate backup plan. They probably wouldn’t even ask why he wanted to know.

Jesse shook his head and marched the rest of the way to the tea shop. He was on a mission, and he was going to accomplish that mission before he talked himself out of it.

The front door chimed musically as Jesse stepped into the cool dimness of the shop behind Oakley, the fragrance of tea and spices just slightly different from his last visit. He looked around and almost immediately spotted Hanzo sliding out from behind the counter, appearing to be genuinely, if sedately, pleased to see him. Jesse wondered, not for the first time, whether that was just part of his customer service face.

He didn’t have much time to think on it, as Hanzo was already walking toward him with a greeting on his lips, and Jesse scrambled to remember what it was he had been planning to say. He was so bad at this.

"Jesse, welcome back." The way Hanzo’s eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled didn’t make it any easier for Jesse to collect his thoughts.

“Hey there.” Not the most brilliant of opening lines, but it would do. Jesse cleared his throat as Hanzo reached him, but thought that he at least sounded more confident than he felt. There was a too-long pause, in which Hanzo also cleared his throat before gesturing Jesse directly to the seating area. Jesse gladly followed, taking up his previous seat facing the door.

Once they were both seated, Hanzo threaded his fingers together on the table and leaned forward, the cuff of his shirt pushed up just enough to reveal a sliver of indigo ink at his wrist. Jesse swallowed hard; the man was already a work of art, and the glimpse of whatever was under that sleeve struck him with the intense desire to see more of it.

If Hanzo noticed, however, he didn't acknowledge it. "Did your friend enjoy her tea?"

Jesse mentally shook himself. "Oh yeah, she told me she liked it almost better than her ma's, but not to tell her ma that." He added a wink for good measure and felt a little thrill of satisfaction at the slight dusting of pink that bloomed over Hanzo's cheeks as he joined him in a laugh.

“I have added it to the stock blends, so if she should decide she wishes to have more in the future, it will be ready for her.” The stately timbre of Hanzo’s voice filled the void that rushed in when the laughter died off. “I will be carrying an unsweetened version also, at another customer’s request.”

“That sounds mighty nice, I’m sure she’ll like that too.” Jesse knew that he should continue, should act on Fareeha’s advice like he said he would, but he was suddenly feeling much less confident than he had been only a few minutes ago. “Actually, I think I might try it without the sugar while I’m here,” he said instead, an excuse to stay longer now that he had delivered his message.

“Of course,” Hanzo said, rising with a smile that Jesse liked to think was more than just good customer service. “It will be good to get an opinion on this version as well.”

Hoping he wasn’t being weird staring, Jesse watched Hanzo as he prepared the small pot of tea: even something so simple was like watching poetry in motion. “Was afraid someone else’d be workin’ today.”

Hanzo glanced up from the strainer he was measuring tea leaves into. "I am flattered you would be so intent on seeing me." His eyes shone with a hint of amusement. “I am always here if the shop is open, however, and occasionally when it is not. I do not yet have so much business that I have felt the need to hire an assistant.”

“Oh, well that’s good.” Jesse nodded, then realized what he had said. “Um, good that you’re here, not that ya don’t have too much business. Didn’t mean that was good. Hope things pick up a bit; I’d like ta see ya stick around.”

“I do not see myself going anywhere for the foreseeable future, business notwithstanding.” Hanzo brought the tea to the table, then followed up with a bowl of water for Oakley. “It has picked up since I made the deal with The Bakery Cafe down the street, and it is really just a matter of building a customer base.”

“Thank ya kindly.” Jesse took a drink of his steaming tea, just as spicy as last week but without the intense sweetness. Hanzo slid behind the counter to retrieve his own cup, then joined Jesse at the table. “So ya got a deal with Lena and Mei? Was wonderin’ about all the little muffins an stuff in your case there.”

“Oh yes, Ms. Oxton and Ms. Zhou have been delightful. I now provide them with all of their tea, while they provide me with a selection of baked goods daily. We are considering doing seasonal offerings beginning this autumn.” 

“That sounds interestin’. I drop by there every now an’ then for pork buns an’ coffee sometimes -- Lena’s girl Emily makes a mean Americano.” Leaning forward on the table with his cup already half empty, Jesse nodded to what Hanzo was drinking. “So what’s that you've got?”

Hanzo hummed thoughtfully in reply and seemed to hesitate just a little. “It is a new blend I am working on, but I am not yet happy with the outcome.”

“Somethin’ a customer asked for?”

“No, sometimes I create a new blend when I am inspired, and it is a challenge to translate the mood or impression I get from the inspiration into a flavor.” Hanzo’s eyes lit up as he spoke, and Jesse could tell that he was truly passionate about what he did for a living.

“What’s in this one so far?” Jesse prompted, loving the way Hanzo sounded when he talked about something he enjoyed.

“It is mostly a Keemun Earl Grey with a hint of Lapsang Souchong to give it a richly smoky flavor. The base is good, but I believe it is still missing something to really impart the correct impression. A bright spot, as it were.” 

“Well, I know about as much about tea as I do about rocket science, but it sounds good at least.” Jesse smiled hopefully. “Mind if I ask what’s inspired ya?”

Hanzo looked a little hesitant again, but was not given the chance to fully decide how to answer. The door chimed, and both men turned their attention toward it, Hanzo already moving to stand.

The woman who walked in wore cuffed skinny capris and coordinating coral-colored scarf, sneakers, and oversized purse with a too-thin tank top. She slid her sunglasses onto her head and eyed Hanzo.

“Is your tea organic?” she asked before he had quite gotten a chance to greet her.

“Good afternoon, and yes, most of my teas are organic.” Hanzo smiled, but Jesse noted that it was an entirely different smile than the ones he received. Of course, that could be because the woman promised to be obnoxious. “Is there something specific I can interest you in, or would you rather browse my selection?”

“Are they _certified_ organic?” 

Hanzo looked like he wanted to cringe at that, but kept it together as Jesse watched the scene with mixed horror and amusement.

“I do have a few that are certified by the USDA, many of which are herbal blends, but certification does not work the same here as it does in the countries of origin for many of my teas, and not every farm that produces an organic crop is certified.” The woman squinted at him as he continued. “Would you like to see some of the certified organic blends I offer?”

“Are they gluten free, too? And non-GMO?”

“The certified organic ones are, for the most part, also certified as non-GMO. And I can guarantee you that no wheat product has ever touched any of my teas.”

Jesse took this as his cue to leave: Hanzo would clearly be occupied with this customer for awhile. He knocked back the rest of his cup of tea and stood, clearing his throat once the woman had finished with her complaint that she had asked about _gluten_ , not _wheat_.

“Scuse me, sorry ta interrupt,” he directed toward Hanzo, genuinely sorry on several levels. “Think I’m gonna skedaddle and let ya tend to this young lady right here. Thank ya for the tea.” 

Hanzo’s definite customer service face cracked for just a moment as he nodded. “Yes, of course. Enjoy the rest of the day.” 

“You too, sugar.” Jesse tipped an imaginary hat at Hanzo’s customer. “Ma’am.” 

“You allow animals in here?” he heard the woman say with mild disgust as he and Oakley walked away, thoroughly disappointed at this turn of events. He had hoped to be able to spend more time today, get to talk a little more. 

“Oakley is a service dog, it is a legal requirement,” Hanzo soothed, already sounding a little tired. By the time Jesse was out the door, the customer was asking if the tea was _certified_ gluten-free. Poor Hanzo. 

Jesse had nearly made it home when he realized that he hadn’t paid for the cup of tea he ordered, but figured that under the circumstances, Hanzo would probably forgive him. He would just have to make it up to him next time he got the courage to drop by. 

\------- 

Hanzo said a polite goodbye to Mrs. Fisher and kept the friendly smile plastered to his face until she was out the door and well past the view through the windows. Once she was out of sight, however, his expression abruptly fell. While he hoped that little Kayleigh enjoyed the (organic, gluten-free, non-GMO) princess tea party her mother was throwing for her third birthday, he hoped to never see the woman again. Even if she did just spend nearly two hundred dollars on fruity organic herbal teas. 

With a heavy groan, Hanzo dropped onto his stool and pitched forward to plant his face on the countertop, arms dangling. He still hadn’t gotten Jesse’s number. Or given him his. And for all he knew, Jesse had no more reason to return. 

Wallowing in his disappointment, Hanzo left his face smushed against the counter for several minutes. The phone rang, forcing him to rouse himself, and he held a brief conversation regarding the types of teaware he carried with the sort of pleasantry he was most certainly not feeling. 

He hung up. He cleaned up the debris from the organic tea storm. He collected the cups that he and Jesse had left on the table, realized that he had also not gotten around to charging Jesse for the cup of tea he had asked for, and then decided he probably wouldn’t have done so even had he remembered. 

With little else pressing to do in the hour and a half before he needed to begin closing up shop, Hanzo settled behind the counter to check his email with a sigh. That perked him up a bit: there was a message from Genji, containing details on his and his partner’s return from their time with the Peace Corps in Nepal. They would be arriving in San Francisco a little over three weeks from now, in mid-June. 

It would be good to see his brother again; due his abysmal timing in moving to the United States shortly after Genji had left for his volunteer mission, it had been nearly a decade since they had been able to talk in person. 

Slightly cheered, Hanzo went about his business for the evening with only a lingering sense of frustration with the day’s events. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tea Facts You Didn’t Know You Wanted:** (until now) Keemun is famous among Chinese black teas, first produced in 1875 and still only grown in a single county between the Yellow Mountains and Yangtze River. It’s characterized by low astringency, a slightly smoky taste (although not so literal a smoky taste as Lapsang Souchong!), and depending on the grade and season, may have notes of stone fruit, pine, cocoa, or orchid; the rich flavor profile is why it’s sometimes called the burgundy of the tea world.
> 
> It’s also why Keemun black tea is often the basis of English Breakfast blends, and enjoys great popularity in the UK. It is not, in fact, a tea that is usually used as a basis for Earl Grey, but that’s not stopping Hanzo: he makes his own Earl Grey because that’s a thing you can do.
> 
> Earl Grey itself is not specific to a certain cultivar or growing region; it merely refers to a tea that has been scented with bergamot oil. Bergamot is a European citrus grown mostly in France and Italy, which is why I had no idea what it was growing up in America. It’s not usually eaten fresh, although it is used for marmalade and in recipes.
> 
> Most Earl Grey teas are made from black tea, although green and oolong Earl Greys have become more popular in recent years, and pretty much every tea company worth its salt offers at least one Earl Grey blend. Sometimes several, using different teas as a base or with different inclusions. (My favorite inclusion for Earl Grey is lavender, but other citrus fruits, vanilla, or floral elements are pretty common).
> 
> Earl Grey tea is also a popular flavoring for many kinds of sweets and savory dishes! Earl Grey cupcakes are super delicious and easy to make (even from a boxed cake mix: just use tea instead of water in the mix, and if you’re using tea bags, feel free to just empty the tea leaves right into the batter after you’ve brewed them), and I have a great recipe for Earl Grey Truffles that I developed a couple years ago (those are a bit more labor-intensive though). I commonly see Earl Grey macarons at bakeries that offer a variety of flavors.
> 
> Now that I think of it, maybe Hanzo should have Lena make some Earl Grey treats for his shop


	4. Blend Four: Swedish Berry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actual conversation happens! Now with 98% less soccer mom and 100% more Torbjorn.

Jesse approached the tea shop with some trepidation, wanting to see Hanzo again but really having no casual excuse to be there; fat chance he was going to admit that he was there solely to see the other man, especially to the other man himself. Even though he should. Really.

He could hear Fareeha calling him a chicken in the back of his head.

Oakley looked up at Jesse curiously, pawing once at his knee in a comforting gesture as he pondered, shifting from one foot to the other beneath the awning of the vintage bookshop a few doors away. He could always buy more tea, which was really the only valid reason to be there to begin with (apologizing for the cup of tea from last week alone didn’t seem like it would warrant staying for as long as he wanted), but who for? 

Then it struck him: Torbjorn’s wife. Ingrid always served tea with the pastries she made, and might appreciate something special and different. Jesse knew there was a specific kind, very Swedish, that she always had on hand … too bad he couldn’t remember what it was, let alone how to pronounce it. That was probably unimportant, though; Hanzo had come up with something good last time with almost nothing to go on.

Deep breath. Jesse strode toward the tea shop with resolve, making sure to slow his pace to a casual saunter once he was within view of the wide, multi-paned windows.

Hanzo turned when Jesse walked through the door, setting an iron teapot back down on the shelf he had been dusting and stuffing the cloth into his back pocket. He looked surprised and at least a little pleased.

“Uh, sorry for abandonin’ you to th’ organic soccer mom last week,” Jesse teased, only a bit sheepish, as Hanzo walked over. Hanzo laughed.

“Correction, the organic, non-GMO, gluten free soccer mom. She may or may not have asked me if my tea was free range at some point.” Hanzo’s grin was gorgeous. “What can I do for you today?” 

Jesse reached up to scratch the back of his neck with a genuine, if nervous laugh. “Well, since my boss’s wife is havin’ a birthday tomorrow, I thought it might be nice to pick her up somethin’.” Ingrid was not, in fact, having a birthday until mid-October, but the fib seemed plausible enough. 

“Ah, so you’d like another recommendation?” There was a touch of warmth to Hanzo’s voice as he ushered Jesse to the seating area, glanced down at Oakley, and went to fill a bowl with water for her before sitting down himself. “Do you know what sort of thing you are looking for?”

“Well, she likes this tea she gets sent in from Sweden. It’s got fruit or somethin’ in it, I guess? Couldn’t pronounce the name even if I remembered it.” Jesse’s hands fidgeted on the table in front of him, and he stroked the side of his boot along Oakley’s furry haunch under the table to try and ground himself. Why was this so hard?

Either Hanzo hadn’t noticed how nervous Jesse was, or he was politely pretending not to. “Would it be Soderblandning?”

“I’m gonna go ahead and guess so. There any kind of tea you don’t know about?” This counted as flirting, right?

“Perhaps somewhere,” Hanzo answered airily as he waved his hand. “But it is probably not any good.”

Jesse laughed as Hanzo settled back in his chair, stroking his goatee. “This is a bit of a creative challenge: something that gives the impression of Soderblandning without trying to imitate it.”

A few moments of thoughtful murmuring later, during which Jesse mostly watched Hanzo’s changing facial expressions with undisguised interest, Hanzo focused on Jesse once more. “I believe I have an idea, although I am not entirely certain how the first attempt will work out.”

“Well, I’ll just let ya work your magic then.” If there had to be more than one attempt, Jesse figured he had a perfectly good reason to stay longer. He would also get to watch Hanzo work a little more.

Hanzo returned to his place behind the counter, selecting things from the shelves along the wall. “Traditional Soderblandning has a Ceylon base, so I thought that perhaps blending it with another tea - something with a contrasting flavor profile - might distance it while maintaining a degree of familiarity,” he explained as he measured tea leaves. “Hojicha should set it off nicely. The traditional blend also contains orange peel and floral components. I expect that adding a different selection of fruits and changing some of the flower ingredients will yield good results.”

Jesse couldn’t tell what it was that Hanzo was chopping up back there, but his plan sounded good even if he also couldn’t tell a good tea blend from a bad one by what was in it. He could enjoy the look of concentration on Hanzo’s face as he worked, though: those dark eyes focused intensely on their task, and Jesse wondered what it would be like to have that intense focus directed toward him.

A few minutes later, Hanzo was pouring hot water into a white ceramic pot and bringing it to the table with a pair of mugs. “Let us test it,” he said as he sat down, giving the tea some time to steep.

“You spend this much time drinkin’ with all your customers?” Jesse teased.

“Just the ones that order custom blends and a select few regulars.” Hanzo must have been satisfied with the reddish color of the brew when he lifted the lid, because he began pouring it into the mugs. He smiled as he passed Jesse’s mug to him, and there was no trace of ‘customer service’ in it anywhere. “Today, you happen to be both.”

“I’m mighty honored then, darlin’.” Jesse lifted the mug. “Cheers, as Lena would say.”

He knocked back a scalding drink as Hanzo took a more cautious sip. “This is pretty good,” he commented after setting the mug back down: it had a very fruity flavor to it, definitely sweet. Hanzo was frowning slightly into his mug.

“It is pretty good, I suppose,” Hanzo answered slowly. “But I believe I can do better.” He took another sip. “After this cup, I will try again.”

“Seems like ya already did a fine job, but you’re the expert.”

They filled the rest of the time that it took to finish their cups with small talk: Jesse learned that Hanzo had only been in the States for a little over a year, had a Masters degree in business, and liked reptiles but was allergic to cats, while Hanzo discovered that Jesse had been in the army for quite awhile but was not keen on giving details and spent many of his non-working hours volunteering at the animal shelter. 

Hanzo didn’t take as much time behind the counter the second time around. “I believe the mix of teas was good, and I kept the cranberries but exchanged the raspberries for a mix of bilberry and black currant. I also added lemon peel.” He hummed as he set everything on the table once more. “I would add lingonberries, but they are not something that I keep on hand.”

The best Jesse could explain the difference between this cup of tea and the last was that it was a little less sweetly fruity and more tart. Hanzo wasn’t frowning as he contemplated his cup, but he still didn’t look satisfied. “I’m likin’ it, but you don’t look like you’re quite there yet.”

“No, not quite.”

This time as they chatted, Hanzo latched onto Jesse’s casual mention that he wrote blog posts on veterans’ affairs under a pen name, and wanted to know all about how that worked. Jesse had never actually had someone genuinely interested in his writing before, or how he did his research: his therapist had listened politely and congratulated him on finding himself something new and productive to occupy himself with, while Fareeha’s eyes had glazed over the one time he had attempted to explain why his tablet browser had 47 open tabs in any kind of detail. He didn’t blame her, really, but it felt good to talk about it with someone who wanted to listen. Their cups were long empty by the time Hanzo’s questions and Jesse’s explanations wound down.

“I admire how you can take your experiences and use them as something to build upon to help and inform others,” Hanzo commented as he cleaned up the cups and returned to his work counter.

“Well thank ya, darlin’. I appreciate your lettin’ me ramble about it for a bit. It’s not somethin’ I usually get to do outside the blog.” Jesse propped his chin on his hand, biting his lip as Hanzo turned, mounted a stepstool, and reached for a tin on the top shelf, revealing a thin stripe of skin when his shirt rode up. He tore his gaze away and upward to Hanzo’s face, eyes wide and innocent, when the man stepped down and turned in his direction once more. “So, uh, how’d you end up openin’ a tea shop like this? Seems like a pretty specific knowledge set ya wouldn’t get in business school.” 

Hanzo looked up from whatever he had been measuring out of the tin, his eyes lighting up again at the question. Just as Jesse had hoped they would.

“Tea has always been a strong interest of mine, even before I went to university,” Hanzo began, doing a bit more mixing and measuring as he did so. “I traveled after leaving Japan the first time, touring different countries where tea is grown or is otherwise a large part of the culture, and worked toward receiving tea master’s certification before settling here. This shop is a passion project for me -- I do have other streams of income, so I will not be worried if it does not turn a profit the first few years.”

Hanzo returned to the table with a third pot of tea. “Now let us see how this has turned out. I added osmanthus rather than the rose and hibiscus this time, which should even out the flavor.”

“Can’t wait, sweetheart.” Was that a blush? It was. Jesse couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face as Hanzo checked the color of the brew and poured it, a little flustered.

This time, Hanzo seemed satisfied upon tasting his cup, smiling slightly into it before glancing up at Jesse as though looking for approval. 

“You’re right,” Jesse said after having knocked back a sizable portion of his serving. He felt a little bad about not spending more time savoring it after Hanzo had gone to all that trouble to perfect the recipe, but he had never been one to sip things. “This one’s real good, definitely the best. So did you learn to blend everythin’ up while you were travelling, or is there some sort of tea master school you went to?”

They talked for quite awhile about Hanzo’s travels through Asia, northern Africa, and Europe. Jesse learned more about tea than he ever thought there was to know as he asked leading questions, delighting in Hanzo’s enthusiasm. Eventually, though, the sun slanting in through the picture windows grew weak and the shelves cast long shadows across the granite floor. Oakley yawned at Jesse’s feet, and he took a quick glance at the time.

“Looks like ya closed about fifteen minutes ago, Han,” he said, more than a little surprised. Hanzo startled, checking his watch.

“You are correct. Let me put together the gift you came in for -- I would hate for you to be without because we got distracted.” Hanzo was quick to dart behind the counter, suddenly all business as his customary look of concentration replaced the eager, delighted smile that had hovered on his lips while they conversed. It looked as though he had made just enough of the blend for them to sample, and needed to put together a full batch now that he had gotten the recipe right. “Did you wish to have the gift tin again?”

“Yeah, please, that’d be good. An’ if you could charge me for the cup I sorta’ walked out on last week? Didn’t wanna bother ya with it then, all things considered.” Jesse moseyed over to the counter, pulling out his wallet.

Hanzo paused in what he was doing to blank owlishly at Jesse, then laughed as he went back to work measuring the tea into its tin. It was adorable. “I had forgotten about that. Do not worry about the cup. I appreciated both the company and the feedback.”

“If you’re sure …”

The transaction was quicker than last time, Hanzo biting his bottom lip as he handed over the credit card slip for Jesse to sign and then glancing down to write something. He probably had all sorts of register paperwork he ought to be doing now that it was past closing and wanted it to be finished quickly. 

“Thanks, sugar.” Jesse pulled up enough courage to wink at Hanzo as he was handed the receipt and his card, replacing the latter in his wallet and stuffing the former in his back pocket without taking his eyes off the other man’s handsome face. “I’ll see ya later?”

“If you come and visit me,” Hanzo answered, his cheeks coloring again slightly as he handed Jesse the bag with the tea tin in it. Their fingers lingered, touching, for just a moment.

“Sure thing.” Jesse thought his voice was going to crack, and had to clear his throat. “Have a good evenin’, sorry for keepin’ ya so late.”

“Please do not be sorry, I was quite enjoying our conversation.” Hanzo walked Jesse and Oakley to the door so that he could lock it behind them. “Have a good evening.”

“You too, sweetheart.” Waving at Hanzo through the windows as he flipped the sign on the door to ‘closed ,’ Jesse headed down the street toward home.

“Y’know, Oak,” he said with a sigh. “Ree’s right. I am a chicken. Coulda’ asked him to dinner or somethin’, since it’s that time of night and I was here anyway.”

Oakley just wagged her tail at him, and he couldn’t really argue. It had still been a good evening.

\-------

Jesse was perched at his work station near the back of the hobby shop on Wednesday morning with Oakley sitting on the ground next to him, the heel of one boot hooked over the bottom rung of his stool. It was a little earlier than they usually got many customers, and he had just started on his project when Torbjorn trundled over to see how it was going..

“Howdy boss.” Setting his paintbrush and the 1:48 scale covered bridge he was working on down in one of the few places on the table that wasn’t covered in jars of paint or tubs of miniature landscape materials, Jesse turned to face Torbjorn better. “How’s it goin’?”

Torbjorn snorted into his coffee cup, a mug that looked far too large for him filled with what may as well have been tar. It was why Jesse hardly ever touched the community coffee pot. “That the new sample that came in last week?”

“Sure is.” Gingerly picking up the bridge by the dry areas and turning it so that the shop owner could see all sides of it, Jesse cocked his head toward greyish paint he had been dry-brushing onto the sides and the wire brush he had sitting on the table waiting for the next step. “Should be pretty much done with the weatherin’ today, an’ I can work on gettin’ it switched out on the display track t’morrow mornin’.”

“Sounds good.” Torbjorn took a long swig of the black sludge in his cup, and Jesse tried not to make a face. “Reggie came in looking for you last night. Had a bunch of pictures of his new setup and wanted your input on something or other. Told him you’d be in this morning and he’d better come back then.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for him, then. An’ ‘fore I forget …” Jesse set the bridge down once more and pulled the bag he had stowed from beneath his table. “Happened to see this and thought Ingrid might like it.”

Torbjorn first looked surprised, then suspicious, as he set his oversized mug on the table between a canister of ground foam and a tub of powdered chalk. He looked down into the paper bag and drew out the tin. “Swedish Berry,” he read. “And you just ‘happened to see this’?” There was a beat of silence as he stared Jesse down with his one good eye before he examined the tin again. “Just like you just ‘happened’ to be in a tea shop? You don’t drink tea.”

“Now why’s everybody gotta get all suspicious when I buy a present?” Jesse huffed, indignant. He clearly had not thought this through.

“Because we all know you.” The tin was replaced in its bag. “Ingrid will enjoy it. How much did this stuff set you back?”

“Don’t remember,” Jesse lied with a shrug. “Might’ve forgotten to take the receipt outta my jeans before washin’ em.” That part was the truth; he had spent a small portion of last night picking bits of paper out of his laundry.

Jamie sidled up to them at that point, his long face twisted in a grin that was part guilty, part elated. He smelled strongly of the black powder used in model rockets, and Torbjorn didn’t have a chance to ask any more questions as Jamie launched into an explanation of _how_ whatever happened had happened without explaining what had happened at all. Jesse chuckled to himself as he turned back to his project: Jamie could always be counted on for a distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **More Tea Facts That People Have Been Unexpectedly Interested In:** So. Soderblandning. Full disclosure: I have never had the opportunity to try it, as the shipping to get it to the US from Sweden is more than the tea itself. One of these days.
> 
> Anyway, Soderblandning was created by the Tea Center of Stockholm in 1979, and was originally called “mistake tea” because a blender by the name of Vernon Mauris screwed up the blend he was trying to make and figured he may as well sell it anyway. It became extremely popular (hey, European readers, how many of you guys drink this?), with 4000kg of exports to Japan yearly and an apparent trend of serving it with port wine in Portugal. It has been served at banquets by the Swedish royal family, and also at a Nobel Prize ceremony.
> 
> While The Tea Center of Stockholm refers to it as being “filled with the tastes of tropical fruits and flowers,” one of the third party sellers who occasionally gets some in described it as a Ceylon tea with rose, cornflowers, marigold petals, and orange peel.
> 
> Ceylon tea refers to tea that is produced in Sri Lanka (while the country changed its name, I guess Ceylon tea sounded better than Sri Lankan tea?). Most Ceylon is black tea, which tends to have a crisp, citrusy flavor (although this will, of course, vary depending on which plantation produced it). Hanzo paired it with Hojicha for this blend, which had a toasty flavor and low caffeine content. Because it is roasted, rather than steamed like most other Japanese teas, it does not have the vegetal or astringent properties of a Sencha or a Bancha.
> 
> Orange and lemon peel are both common inclusions for tea blends, as the oils present in the peels are readily released in hot water. Dried fruits, like the berries that Hanzo used in his blend, do not impart as much flavor as citrus peel does until a second steeping, after the tea leaves have weakened a bit and the fruits have been sufficiently rehydrated. I skipped over the second steeping for the sake of brevity, but assume that Hanzo made them a second pot of the final blend while they were chatting. ;)
> 
> Rose petals are a fairly common inclusion of tea; I mentioned them last chapter when talking about things that went with Earl Grey. It’s hard to describe the flavor of roses to someone who has never had them, but I’m guessing many of you have tasted them: Turkish Delight is often flavored with rose (rose with pistachios is my favorite!), there are rose petal spreads (I get mine from the Indo-Pak market), jellies (I’m sure you can buy them but I make my own), and of course, macarons (because what flavor don’t those come in?).
> 
> Cornflowers are usually mostly for aesthetic in a tea blend, as they don’t impart a lot of flavor. The same goes for marigold (or calendula, as that’s the member of the marigold family people eat) unless you’re using it large quantities. On its own, however, it has a vegetal flavor vaguely reminiscent of artichokes (I legit had to make a cup so I could describe it). Calendula is used in a lot of medicinal herbal blends and medications, both topical and for ingestion.
> 
> Osmanthus is a small yellow flower from an evergreen bush in China and Japan. It has a sweet, floral aroma that is sometimes used to balance other flavors within a blend. It is also sometimes used to disguise bitter tastes in herbal medicinal teas, for cooking sweet and savory dishes, and in wines. It's also said to have several different health benefits in Chinese medicine.
> 
> I’m not entirely sure how the Swedish Berry blend would actually taste, as I’m a few ingredients short of being able to put this one together myself and guessing based on the flavors of the individual components.


	5. Blend Five: Coffee and Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo just wants to have a relaxing evening. Jesse just wants some coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slight delay; I had guests over. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but it is what it is.

Hanzo was on his second glass of wine and Amelie on her fourth -- Satya was still nursing her first, mostly holding onto the glass to keep her hands occupied -- by the time the three of them had made a full first tour around the room. The two ladies had dragged him to a gallery opening at The Medici on Friday night, citing his lack of socializing outside of his receiving visitors at work and his extreme usefulness with repelling unwanted attention as reasons that it was absolutely necessary he attend. Fortunately, it was a good show -- art nouveau from a world perspective -- with pieces by artists from varying cultural backgrounds. There were several that Hanzo, at least, wanted to return to in order to better appreciate them, and two that he hoped would be for sale.

“It is time to find a good vantage point from which to make scathing commentary on all of the pretentious bitches,” Amelie decided once the room had gotten crowded enough that it was difficult at best to avoid all of the amateur art critics that were hell-bent on sharing their analyses of the works on display with anyone who would listen.

“Would that not make us the ‘pretentious bitches’?” Hanzo asked as he and Satya let her lead the way to a somewhat emptier corner of the room where there were no artworks, hiding his smirk behind his wine glass. Amelie sniffed.

“Yes, but we are the _beautiful_ pretentious bitches. Someone has to do it.” She waved an imperious hand at the assembled crowd as Hanzo snorted and Satya rolled her eyes. “And looking around, it clearly must be us.”

Satya stood still and straight next to the wall, absently tapping the glass she held in her prosthetic with the finger of her other hand. There was a young man in a turtleneck and skinny jeans eyeing her with interest from where he stood next to a large painting by a Guatemalan artist that was vaguely reminiscent of Mucha, and Hanzo fixed him with a searing glare. The young man quickly turned his attention elsewhere.

“So. Satya.” Amelie’s glance was sly, and Satya raised an eyebrow, not liking the tone of voice. “How are things going with the new girl in the IT department?”

“They are not,” Satya answered with a shrug, not looking in Amelie’s direction or acknowledging that the question had nothing to do with the 'scathing commentary' she had been promised. Hanzo had enough experience with her tendency to gaze into the middle distance not to wonder what she actually _was_ looking at. “I decided that my level of interest was not great enough to justify the expected effort at this time.”

“You can’t be serious,” Amelie scoffed, stepping closer so that she was just outside Satya’s personal space bubble. “You were saying on Wednesday that --”

“Why don’t you ask Hanzo how things are going with his handsome customer?” Satya interrupted, still not looking at Amelie. Hanzo shot her a dirty look, which she ignored.

“Betrayer.” He was only half teasing.

“My sense of self-preservation is stronger than my sense of loyalty,” she answered blandly, playing with the stem of her wine glass as Amelie laughed.

“Good to know that now,” Hanzo muttered, preparing for the inevitable barrage of questions from Amelie.

She sidled up to him, bumping his shoulder with her own. He put on his best bitch face, but really should have expected her to be immune to it. “So, how _is_ this handsome customer that you seem to have neglected to mention to me despite having shared it with Satya?”

“He is fine,” Hanzo said stiffly, finishing off his drink. Maybe he would help himself to a third after all.

“I know he has been back into the store, but--”

Amelie cut Satya off this time. “Just how many times has he been in to see you?”

“Often enough.” Hanzo could feel his face heating up, fully intending to blame it on the alcohol and the crowded room if he was called out on it. Not that he expected Amelie to accept that explanation.

“Tell me about him.” It wasn’t quite a demand, but close enough. Hanzo heaved a sigh, and Satya turned her head from her unfocused staring to join Amelie in looking at him expectantly. He leaned against the wall, playing with his empty glass.

“He _is_ quite handsome,” Hanzo began, mentally picking out details that might end the conversation while still satisfying the women’s curiosity, “and quite a good conversationalist; we spoke past closing time this Tuesday.” He paused, but Amelie gestured for him to keep going. “He is an Army veteran who comes in with his service dog, volunteers at the animal shelter, and writes. He is also a shameless flirt.”

“I take it you are as wishy-washy as Satya, since you are here with us instead of out with him on a Friday night?” Amelie tsked, her tone suggesting she was talking to a child.

“What? No!” Hanzo protested, and Satya had the grace to look surprised even though Amelie was laughing at him. She didn’t seem to be particularly concerned with Amelie's indirect insult. “I gave him my number on Tuesday. I wrote it on his receipt … I just have not heard from him since.” The last part was mumbled at his empty glass with another sigh. Perhaps it had been a foolish move, on his part, and he had been mis-reading their interactions this whole time.

Amelie’s teasing laughter quieted. “It did not go well, chéri?” She plucked Hanzo’s empty wine glass from his fingers and stepped away for a moment, returning with two more. “What happened?”

Hanzo sighed again as a new glass of wine was thrust into his hands, and he took a sip. It was a decent vintage. “It is just … he did not acknowledge it, but I thought nothing of it at the time, as he was looking at me rather than what I was handing to him and he automatically put it away.” He leaned on the wall next to Satya and it was her turn to tsk, fixing him with her too-sharp gaze.

“Perhaps he did not see it,” she commented. “You have said on more than one occasion that he had been flirting with you.”

“I also said I did not know whether he was flirtatious with everyone. It seems as though perhaps that is the case.” Hanzo huffed, pushed himself off of the wall, and drained his glass. “The area around the Korean artist’s work has cleared and I wish to take a closer look at it,” he said brusquely, the topic of Jesse closed. He had been staving off the disappointment ever since the elation from the almost date-like conversation and his finally making a move had worn off, and that disappointment had settled over him like a blanket after having the fact that he had not been called pointed out to him.

Perhaps Satya was right and Jesse hadn’t seen it? Not everyone looked at their receipts. Or he had lost it. Or his phone had gotten dropped and he had needed to get a new one. There were any number of reasons that Jesse might not have called. The only problem was, how could Hanzo try again without making a fool of himself if that reason had been that Jesse was simply not interested?

Hanzo snatched a fourth glass of wine on his way to the group of paintings he was headed for.

\-------

“Here ya go, luv!”

Jesse sat at the counter of The Bakery Cafe, smiling at Lena as she placed the Americano Emily had made in front of him. “Thanks, you’re the best.” 

Lena just laughed as Jesse took his customary first gulp of scalding coffee. “Didja hear that Genji and Zen are getting back in next week?”

“Yeah, got an email from Genji yesterday. Said his brother’s in town, so he’s already got a place to stay and someone to pick ‘em up from the airport.” Taking a bite of his pork bun, Jesse chewed contemplatively, eyes not really focused on the shelf full of mismatched cups and mugs above the counter. “Never talked much about this brother of his. Be interestin’ to meet him.”

Mei finished putting the bao she had pulled from the oven into the display case. It wasn’t a busy time of day, so they all had a bit of time to chat. “I only know that he is older and that he was the only family member Genji spoke to after leaving Japan.”

“That’s about all I know, too.” Jesse’s coffee was almost empty and that was a travesty. “The one time Genji really talked about him, he said the guy was a hardass.”

“I suppose we’ll find out sooner or later,” Lena chirped. “Think he’ll come along to the welcome back party next weekend?”

“Hard to say.” Jesse shrugged, finishing off his pork bun, and Mei hummed in agreement as Lena started unpacking a box that had been sitting next to the counter. The environment of the cafe was relaxing when it wasn’t peak time: the spot at the counter he liked with a wall at his back was always open, and Lena kept a box of biscuits handy specifically for Oakley.

A few customers came and went with to-go orders, and a student settled themself in the corner with their laptop. Jesse listened idly as they ordered a cup of tea, nursing the last quarter cup of his own coffee. 

“We just got in a couple new teas to test, luv. You might like the Desert Spice since you usually get the chai,” Lena was telling the student. Jesse glanced over at the canister she had just unpacked from the box, and sure enough, it was from Hanamura Fine Teas.

“Hanzo blended that one for me as a present for Ree,” he commented offhandedly once the student had gotten their tea and was ensconced in their corner. “Do ya carry everything he does?”

“Yeah?” Lena propped her elbow on the counter again. “We don’t carry everything, but he sends us over a batch to sample when he makes or gets something new. He’s got a lot of prissy green teas and oolongs and I don’t know what that we don’t serve here.”

“Heard you guys were gonna do a seasonal thing maybe?” Jesse just couldn’t nurse the dregs of the Americano anymore, but was nowhere near ready to be on his way. He had a very empty studio apartment waiting for him, and had found that sitting in the coffee shop in the evenings chased away the rare temptation to sit in a bar somewhere instead. “And can I please get a cup o’ drip this time?”

“Sure thing, luv.” It only took a moment before another cup of sweet, sweet caffeine was sitting in front of Jesse, and he gripped the warm mug gratefully with his good hand. It occurred to him for the thousandth time that he should switch to decaf this late in the day. “And yeah, we were lookin’ into it. Hanzo tell you that?”

“Thanks for that.” Saluting Lena with the mug, Jesse took a deep drink. Yeah, no, there was no way he could switch to decaf. It just wasn’t the same. “He mentioned it a week or so back. Don’t remember exactly what we were talkin’ about at the time.” 

“I didn’t know that you knew each other,” Mei said softly from where she was putting away the new tins.

“Aw, well … we talk sometimes when I drop by his store,” Jesse answered, ducking his head a little as he slurped his coffee. He felt the beginnings of a blush coming on and hoped that it wasn’t enough for either of them to notice. He had no reason to be blushing right now, damnit.

It was unfortunate for him that Lena was considerably more perceptive than she looked.

“What’s all this, then?” Lena peered at Jesse around his coffee cup, and let out a delighted gasp. “You’ve gone scarlet. D’you fancy Hanzo? Is that it?”

Jesse stared at her, feeling like a deer in the headlights, and debated taking the rest of his cup of coffee to go. Emily appeared behind her at the counter, eager for gossip, then Mei.

“I wouldn’t say scarlet, just a little pink,” Mei pointed out, eyes crinkling in a smile. “That’s so sweet, he’s such a nice man.”

“Fit, too,” Emily added. “Not to my taste, obviously.”

“Oh, you would be so cute together.” Mei was positively cooing.

“Have you told him?” Lena interjected.

Sliding off his stool with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Jesse wiped his hand down his face as Oakley stood up next to him. Fareeha was bad enough, and now he had these three. Who actually knew Hanzo. He swallowed the remainder of the coffee from the mug as if it were a shot. “Can I just get a refill to go, please, ladies?”

“That’s a no, then.” Lena cackled as she filled a paper cup with black coffee and waved Jesse out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tea Facts That Have Nothing To Do With This Chapter:** Since there’s no new tea in this chapter, I figured I’d just talk about some favorites that y'all have probably run across.
> 
> I want to talk first about genmaicha, because A) it is delicious and B) it pops up pretty often in the other story I’m working on, Search Results. I first ran across this blend about a million years ago when I worked at Barnes & Noble and the cafe still had Republic of Tea. Every day I ended up getting a cup of Tea of Inquiry. When we stopped carrying the brand, I looked it up and realized that not only was it one of those other tea blends that most brands worth their salt carried, but I could buy it at pretty much any Asian market on the planet. Anyway, genmaicha is a Japanese green tea (I’ve seen sencha, bancha, or hojicha used) with toasted/popped brown rice. While the flavor will vary a bit according to the kind of green tea used and the ratio of tea to rice, it pretty much always has a warm, mellow, toasty flavor. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to try and like green tea, but doesn’t enjoy a vegetal or astringent flavor.
> 
> Jasmine tea is another pantry staple, and should be available pretty much anywhere you buy tea. Originating from China, jasmine tea is scented with (you guessed it) jasmine flowers. While it’s usually made of green tea, jasmine tea is also made with black or white teas, and can run the gamut of quality from grocery store teabags to considerably pricier Dragon Pearls. The scenting process for jasmine tea (and many other floral teas) is to mix the freshly-picked flowers (when to pick them will depend on the province the tea is being made in) with the otherwise-prepared tea (this preparation will also vary by province) and pretty much rake it up in a big pile on the floor. The pile will get mixed and turned a bit over the next few weeks while the tea leaves absorb the oils from the flowers, and when it is ready, the flowers are removed. Some tea meant for export leaves the flowers in, but they’re just for show; the tea would taste pretty much exactly the same without them.


	6. Blend Five: Citrus-Infused Sencha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji returns from Nepal, meets up with his brother, and gets together with some friends.

Hanzo hadn’t been off of the phone with Genji, with whom he had been coordinating meeting at the airport, for five minutes when the door chimed and Jesse walked in with Oakley. His smile was just as bright as always, and it tugged at something in Hanzo’s chest.

“Jesse. Good afternoon.” Hesitating just a moment, Hanzo swallowed down the disappointment and anxiety sticking in his throat and did his best to return the smile as he gestured to the seating area.

Instead of immediately taking his usual place, though, Jesse gave Hanzo a long look, his brow furrowing as he did so. “You alright, darlin’?” he asked slowly. “Somethin’ botherin’ you?”

“No, no, I am fine.” Hanzo waved his hands in a defensive gesture, realized what he was doing, and forced them back to his sides. Jesse didn’t appear to believe him for a second, and he sighed in defeat. “I am simply tired. I was up late holding a conversation with a family member back in Japan, and it was not a pleasant one,” he lied.

Jesse’s expression smoothed into one of concern. “You wanna talk about it at all?”

“Not right now, but thank you.” Relief and guilt at the untruth mingled in Hanzo’s stomach, but at least Jesse was now allowing himself to be led over to sit down. “A distraction would be appreciated, though. Did you need some more tea or just wish to visit?”

There was that beautiful smile again.“I’m always happy to visit, but I do need to buy somethin’ too.” Jesse seemed to be a bit more at ease now that they were sitting and Hanzo had tamed some of his nervous gestures, but Hanzo could tell that he was still being watched with a keen eye. “I’m gettin’ together with a friend that I haven’t seen in awhile pretty soon, an’ thought I might get him a little somethin’.” 

Hanzo wondered with a tiny bit of panic what sort of friend he was referring to; it occurred to him that his conversations with Jesse had never specified whether he was seeing anyone, or planning on seeing anyone. Perhaps that was why Jesse hadn’t called or texted: it was possible he already had someone he was interested in and wasn’t looking for much more than the sort of casual acquaintanceship that he and Hanzo had already established.

“Hopefully I will have the ‘little something’ you are looking for,” Hanzo answered with a smile before he could get too far into his own head. If friendship was all they were destined for, he would have to be satisfied with that. “Do you have another challenge for me?”

“Maybe.” Jesse had once more affixed Hanzo with a look of appraising concern. “The guy’s actually pretty fussy about his tea, won’t touch it if it came from the grocery. He does like the fruity stuff, though. Not berries, like the one ya made me for Ingrid, but like, oranges and stuff.” 

“Hmm.” Perhaps it was having just talked to Genji that made Hanzo think of it. He stood and fetched a large canister from the shelves of already-blended teas behind his counter, glad for the excuse to turn away and breathe for a moment.. “I believe I have something your friend will like already, then: a citrus sencha.”

Jesse chuckled, leaning back against his chair. “Guess it’s only fair to give you an easy one this time, since I kept you at it for so long last week.”

“It was no trouble, “Hanzo said with a slight smile. He had just started filling the usual five-ounce tin out of habit when Jesse’s phone rang. There wasn’t much he could gather from the clipped conversation aside from the fact that Jesse was less than pleased. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked, sliding the canister back onto its shelf as Jesse replaced his phone in his pocket. 

“Sorry darlin’, I gotta go.” Jesse pulled a face, rolling his eyes emphatically. “Not entirely sure what’s goin’ on, but it seems like the Junior Robotics Club and the Model Rocket Enthusiasts League got into it or somethin’ and Torb needs someone half sane to mind the shop while he straightens things out.”

“That sounds ... “ Hanzo couldn’t even finish his sentence properly, trying to imagine what that kind of situation could possibly look like, and figured it would be best to just quickly get Jesse’s tea rang up and bagged.

“Thanks sweetheart, wish I could stay,” Jesse called, on his way out with his tea as soon as it was paid for. “I’ll see ya later. Get some rest and don’t let ‘em stress you out too much!” He and Oakley practically broke into a run as soon as the door was shut, and Hanzo sighed after him.

\-------

Atrocious. Hanzo knew he should have just filled a travel mug with tea from home rather than taking a chance on what he could find at the airport, and he was paying the price for not listening to himself in the form of a cup of … something. It was so bad that he wasn’t entirely sure what it was supposed to have been.

It was tempting to just throw it out, but then he would have to resort to his phone to occupy his hands while waiting for Genji and his partner to come through Customs.

Hanzo had never actually met Genji’s partner. Come to think of it, Hanzo wasn’t even sure he knew the man’s name: Genji had referred to him exclusively as ‘Zen’ without mentioning whether or not it was a nickname, and no family name had ever come up in their occasional conversations. Odd, but Hanzo honestly didn’t expect much different from his brother, and didn’t blame him for being evasive about the people he had associated with since moving to the United States. While Hanzo had still been living in Japan with their family, it had probably been best (and safest) for everyone involved, and by the time he left, it had become habit. 

Finally, though, Hanzo spotted them: Genji looked travel-weary, walking next to a dark-skinned young man with a shaved head. Genji’s face lit up when he saw Hanzo waving to him and he sped up into a little jog, his carry-on bouncing against his hip.

Hanzo offered his hand, smiling, and wasn’t too terribly surprised when Genji used it to pull him into a hug. “It is good to see you, brother.”

“It is good to see you too, I have missed you.” Hanzo stepped back after a moment to get a good look at his brother. Genji laughed.

“I have missed you too. But look at this,” he ruffled the buzzed back of Hanzo’s undercut. “Were you trying to disguise yourself so I would not recognize you?”

“Only distancing myself from the past.” They let go of each other, and Hanzo glanced at the man who had been accompanying Genji. “Introduce me to your partner.”

“This is Zen,” Genji said, pulling his companion into a one-armed hug as they headed toward baggage claim. “Zen, my brother Hanzo.”

Hanzo and Zen exchanged pleasantries; Zen wasn’t much like any of the people that Genji had dated before he had left home, but Hanzo supposed that that was the point. The three of them chatted while the waited the eternity it always took waiting for luggage from an international flight, and while waiting for the valet to bring Hanzo’s car around, and as they headed out of the San Francisco airport. 

“Hey,” Genji started during a quiet moment near Hanzo’s apartment. “Zen and I are getting together with some friends on Sunday for lunch. Sort of a welcome back party. Would you like to come and meet them?”

Hanzo shook his head. “Unfortunately, the shop is open. But I would like to meet your friends if you should get together of an evening.”

“We will have to do that sometime, then,” Genji answered, satisfied that Hanzo’s reply was genuine. “Perhaps next week or the one after if people are free.”

\-------

Jesse was running a little late to the party, jogging the last few steps to the taqueria that their group would undoubtedly be taking up half of if everyone who had been invited showed up.

The bell jingled when he opened the door, and he was hit with a wall of noise an scent: voices and music, the clinking of glasses and beer bottles and the faint sizzle of meat coming from the kitchen mixed with the rich aromas of peppers and onions. Jesse and Oakley paused in the doorway a moment to adjust before heading over to their party, which was taking up most of the tiny room as he had expected it would.

“Hey, nice of you to join us!” Fareeha exclaimed, lifting the bottle of Corona she was drinking. Three others sat empty in front of her. Lena and Emily were at the counter, and Mei sat off to the side with a glass of soda, nibbling on chips without salsa as she listened to whatever story Genji and Zen were tag-teaming. It looked as though Angela was late, if she was coming at all. Zarya stepped out of the restroom to join Mei a moment later.

“Jesse!” Genji paused in his storytelling to turn and wave, his smile wide. “Glad you could make it!”

“Nice to see ya again,” Jesse answered, crossing the room to clap Genji on the back before being introduced to Zen. Apparently they had met in Nepal and decided to stay together, Zen coming back to California with Genji instead of going to New York, where he had left from. There was a bit of general catching up: the two were staying with Genji’s brother and wanted to adjust a bit before deciding what to do with themselves, while Jesse’s life hadn’t particularly changed in the two years that his friend had been gone.

“Oh yeah, I brought ya a little somethin’.” Jesse handed Genji the bag he had been carrying, which Genji accepted with a look of surprise.

“Thank you, you did not have to bring a gift.” he said as he drew the tin of tea from its bag. “This is actually my favorite. How did you know?”

“I didn’t.” Tilting his head, Jesse hooked both thumbs into his belt loops. “The fella at the tea shop recommended it when I said you were fussy and like fruit.”

The smile on Genji’s face had grown, becoming devious as he examined the tin. His eyes flicked up at Jesse’s face, and he looked almost as though he were trying not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jesse demanded, amusement behind his words.

Genji held up the tin and pointed to the “Hanamura Fine Teas” embossed around the sakura on the lid. “This is my brother’s shop.”

“Your … your what now?” Jesse stammered at the same time as Fareeha nearly choked on her drink.

“You mean that the hot tea man Jesse has been trying to get up the guts to ask out is your brother?” she screeched at Genji, who looked both startled and delighted.

“Oh my god, really?” Genji exchanged looks with Zen, who just sighed and shook his head.

“Hey now --” Jesse tried to interrupt. 

“I will have to see what he thinks of you. Do you think he will remember you?”

“Come on now, don’t --”

Fareeha cut in. “Of course he will remember him. Jesse has been in every Tuesday for the past month and is too chicken to give Hanzo his number.”

“Got all flustered and buggered off the other day when I asked if he fancied him, too” added Lena cheerfully, flopping down in the booth with a new bottle of beer.

Jesse just groaned as Genji cackled in elation. 

“I want to see a picture of your brother,” Fareeha told Genji, only a slight slur in her voice. “Everyone else here has met him, but I am the one who has had to listen to Jesse wax poetic about how handsome he is.”

“I hate you all,” Jesse grumbled, as he and Oakley crossed the room to sit by Mei and Zarya, who had kindly stayed out of the teasing.

\-------

“So how was your get-together?” Hanzo asked on Sunday evening. Genji perched on a bar stool in the kitchen, watching him cook.

“It was enjoyable.” Something in Genji’s tone made Hanzo turn to squint at him. He looked entirely too smug. “Several of my friends were able to make it, and one of them even brought me a small gift.”

“That was kind of them,” Hanzo replied neutrally, turning back to the stock pot full of bones and vegetables that had been simmering for ramen. Given a few moments, he was sure that Genji would get to whatever point he was he was hinting toward.

It didn’t take long. “It was a lovely tin of my favorite tea from that new shop on Rose Street. I have no idea how he knew.” 

Hanzo stilled: he has only sold one gift tin of that blend this month. “You know Jesse?” he asked tentatively, chancing a peek over his shoulder at his grinning brother. “Did … did he say anything? About me?”

Genji hummed. “He did not.” Hanzo’s face fell, and he turned back to his broth with a sigh of disappointment. “Fareeha did, though.” A small spark of hope flared in his chest. ‘Fareeha’ would be the ‘Ree’ that Jesse had purchased the Desert Spice for, right? What would she have had to say?

It was hard to tell whether Genji had noted the changes in Hanzo’s expression as he continued. “Apparently she had to listen to how good looking you are at length. And about how Jesse has not yet managed to man up and give you his number.”

Hanzo’s heart thudded in his chest and he turned quickly, cooking forgotten entirely. “Are you certain?” he asked, eyes wide. “I gave him _my_ number almost two weeks ago and he did not call or text me at all.”

“What?” Genji asked with a frown and a tilt of his head. “Are you sure? Jesse certainly seemed unaware of the fact.”

“Of course I’m sure! I wrote it on his receipt!”

There was a groan, and Genji shifted in a full-body eyeroll. “He absolutely did not see it then. I doubt he even looked at the receipt. The thing you need to know about Jesse is that while he is a very good person, he is also an easily-flustered mess.” He sighed. “Would you like me to give you his number so you can just text him?”

“No, that would be creepy.” 

“Jesse said the same thing when I offered.”

Hanzo smiled a little and resumed making dinner, feeling much more at peace than he had all week. “Thank you, though. I know what I need to do now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tea Facts That Once Again Are Related To What Just Happened:** Today we’re going to talk a little bit about sencha, a common Japanese tea (that I happen to be drinking as I write this). Unlike hojicha, which we talked about a couple weeks ago, sencha is steamed before it’s dried, preventing oxidation and giving the leaves a fairly vegetal flavor. Depending on the kind of sencha you get, this can translate it to being a bit grassy, astringent, or even a bit seaweed-y. It also means that the brewed tea, unlike most Chinese green teas (which are pan-fired rather than steamed) is actually a greenish color. 
> 
> If you’re buying Japanese green tea and it’s not labeled as something else, there’s a pretty good chance that it’s sencha, as it makes up about 80% of Japan’s green tea production. The first flush (or first picking) is called shincha, and is considered to be of higher quality, while the tea picked after the general sencha season is over is referred to as bancha, and is a lower grade. A Fukamushi sencha is a variant of the regular sencha that is much more deeply steamed, giving it a sweeter, richer, less astringent flavor.
> 
> Another Japanese green tea is gyokuro, which is grown in the shade for around three weeks of the season. It tends to be a brighter green in color when brewed, and should be prepared with lower-temperature water than many other green teas. 
> 
> No Japanese green tea discussion is complete without matcha, the ground whole-leaf tea used in the tea ceremony. There are special tools, including a tea bowl and a bamboo whisk, used to prepare matcha on its own, although you will also find matcha included in other tea blends. It’s made from tencha, another shade-grown tea, and can be quite costly, especially at higher grades. It’s one of the most healthful teas you can drink, as it incorporates the whole leaf, but the highly vegetal, somewhat bitter properties of the drink aren’t always suited to a Western palate. 
> 
> There are a lot of other types of Japanese green tea, but they’re not something you’re as likely to run into outside of Japan. If any of you have experience with some of them, please chime in!
> 
> As for the ‘citrus-infused’ part of Genji’s sencha, it’s made in a way that is pretty much the same as Earl Grey, except that Hanzo uses grapefruit oil rather than bergamot. It makes for a very brightly-flavored tea.


	7. Blend Seven: Western Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo knows what's up. Jesse suspects that Hanzo knows what's up and hopes that it's something good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this far, for all of the kudos and the comments and the recs: even though I haven’t had the spoons to respond to more than a fraction of them, every one is appreciated and every one has made my day.
> 
> You may have noticed that I set this up as a series: the next installment is about half done, and I’m hoping to post it soon.

Hanzo had been working on this tea blend for a good six weeks now, and he hoped it was ready. He felt like it was, but still fretted over whether it would be to Jesse’s liking. Was there too much lapsang souchong in it? Too little? Was the vanilla strong enough? Would it be too sweet?

With great effort, Hanzo forced himself to relax. It was fine. He would know: he had already had half a dozen pots of the stuff since Monday morning.

It was almost 3:15, the time that Jesse tended to arrive, give or take a few minutes. Hanzo was well prepared, he was sure of it: there was tea in the infuser, waiting for the hot water to be poured over it into the pot. Two cups already sat at the table, the largest mugs Hanzo had in deference to Jesse’s habit of drinking deeply. A bowl on the counter was ready to be filled with water for Oakley.

Now, all there was left to do was to pace. Pace, and pray that no demanding customers came in for an hour at the very least. Pray that whatever hobbyist clubs meeting at Jesse’s workplace behaved themselves. Pray that none of their friends or family or acquaintances decided to meddle.

The phone rang. Hanzo cursed inwardly as he went to answer it: he had forgotten to pray for no long phone calls.

“Good afternoon, cherie.” Amelie calling him should have been covered under ‘meddling friends.’ “Are you aware that there is an attractive man with a dog and no fashion sense staring at your door from beneath the bookshop awning?”

Hanzo glanced out the wide shop windows; he couldn’t see the bookshop from where he was, but he _could_ see Amelie lounging against the glass door of her boutique with the phone pressed to her ear. She smirked at him with a little wave of her fingers, and he sighed.

“No, I was not aware,” Hanzo answered, just barely resisting the urge to stick his head out the door to see. “If it is Jesse, I am sure he will come in when he is ready.”

Amelie laughed. “It seems he has made himself ready, now that he sees me looking at him. You will have to tell me what happens later, Casanova.”

She hung up, and Hanzo was staring at the phone in his hand with a furrowed brow when the bell on the door rang.

\-------

Jesse wasn’t sure what he was expecting, showing up at Hanamura Fine Teas as usual on Tuesday, but he definitely expected _something_. Genji had never been able to keep his mouth shut -- not about things like this, anyway.

The past two evenings had seen Jesse trying to reconcile the gruff, emotionally-distant workaholic of an older brother that Genji had occasionally mentioned with the man he had been talking to these past several weeks. The Hanzo that Jesse knew was smart, articulate, passionate about the things he enjoyed, a good listener, and even a little shy. The two just didn’t match and eventually Jesse gave up, supposing that it was all a matter of environment.

Jesse certainly knew a thing or two about that. 

So it was without any sort of pretense that he approached the tea shop, hoping that whatever happened would happen well. In hindsight, he hadn’t been subtle at all in his interest, and maybe he had been worrying so hard about the impression he was making that he had missed any number of cues Hanzo had been giving him. The burst of optimism was welcome, but still didn’t save him from having to pause at the bookshop next door to bolster his own confidence.

“This is it, girl,” he told Oakley, who looked up and whuffed softly at him with a wag of her tail. “Sink or swim, huh?”

Another few moments passed as Jesse shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Oak fixing him with that happy dog face that suggested all was right in the world, before he noticed the woman. She was across the street in the doorway of a ladies’ boutique, talking on the phone and staring straight at him. 

Whelp, time to go.

He glanced over and saw her laughing as he walked the scant distance to Hanzo’s shop, trying not to look like he was hurrying as he opened the door. Hanzo was staring at the phone in his hand when Jesse entered, but hurriedly set it in its cradle with a slight fumble upon seeing him.

“Jesse!” Hanzo cleared his throat, a welcoming smile replacing the expression of panic that had briefly crossed his features. Jesse wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a good sign or a bad one, but he hoped it was a good one. At least it was an improvement over last week.

“Hey there, darlin’, how ya feelin’? You were a bit down last time I saw ya.”

“Much better, thank you. How did the incident with the robotics club and the rocket group work out?”

Jesse snorted a laugh at that. “I don’t even know. Torb was gettin’ it all sorted out back while I minded the front. Normally he doesn’t schedule me when the Model Rocket Enthusiasts are gonna be in on account of the noise, so I wasn’t about to go pokin’ around out there.”

“He is lucky to have you to cover for that sort of incident.” Hanzo was filling a bowl with water; it looked as though it had been sitting ready on the counter. That wasn’t the only thing sitting ready -- the table was already set with the ceramic teapot and a pair of mugs. “Please sit down, I have something I would like you to try today.”

“O-okay darlin. Lookin forward to it.” Jesse maneuvered to his usual spot and accepted the bowl of water for Oakley that Hanzo handed to him with a murmured thanks, then watched as Hanzo slipped behind the counter once more to fetch a kettle of steaming water.

Once Hanzo had poured the water into the ceramic pot on the table in front of Jesse, he returned the kettle to its place and sat down. “You remember some weeks ago when you asked what I was drinking and I told you that it was a blend I was not yet finished working on?” He was leaning forward, fingers twined together on the table in front of him and an earnest expression on his face.

“Yeah, the one with the smoky tea that you wanted the bright spot for, right? I asked ya what inspired you and then the organic soccer mom came in.” Jesse’s own little bright spot flared up in his chest, a flicker of hope.

“Yes, that one.” Hanzo laughed softly as he checked the color of the tea and began to pour, first into Jesse’s cup and then his own. “I believe it is finished, and would very much like it if you would be the first person to taste it.”

“I’m mighty honored, darlin’.” The aroma coming from the cup in front of him was smoky-sweet, and when Jesse lifted the mug he closed his eyes to inhale deeply, wanting to fully appreciate the thing that Hanzo had been working on for so long. When he opened them, Hanzo was looking at him expectantly, and Jesse could see the mingling hope and nerves in his eyes. “It smells fantastic,” he said, smiling over the rim of his cup, and took a deep drink.

The flavor was as smoky as expected, only slightly sweet with hints of citrus and vanilla and something spicy. It reminded Jesse of cooking outdoors and good pipe tobacco, and he sighed into the cup as he took another, slower drink. 

“Sweetheart,” he said after a moment of savoring it like he rarely savored his drinks. “I think this is some of your best work.”

Hanzo’s face broke into a relieved and delighted smile, and he looked to be about to say something when the chime at the door had them both turning in that direction. "Excuse me for a moment," he offered instead as he rose and went to meet the new customer.

Jesse fidgeted, watching Hanzo converse with the young man. He seemed to be just the sort of hipster one would expect to see in this neighborhood, with his beanie and skinny jeans and combat boots. The conversation was short, however, and Hanzo was already ringing the customer's purchase by the time Jesse’s cup was half empty. 

Hanzo’s smile was shy, and his cheeks had started to flush when the customer had gone and he had returned to the table with something in his hands. “Thank you, I am very happy that you like it. I … did not get to tell you about the inspiration for the tea earlier. When you asked a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah?” Jesse slowly set the mug back down on the table and leaned forward. All of his attention was on the man sitting across from him. “I’d love t’hear about it.”

Hanzo set the thing he was holding on the table: one of the sample tins. He bit his lip and looked a little nervous as he pushed it across the table toward Jesse. 

Jesse picked up the tin and read the label. “Western Beauty?” He opened it to find the darkly curled leaves accented with red peppercorns, light brown crystals of rock sugar, and yellow flower petals. Bringing it closer to his nose, he inhaled the same smoky-sweet aroma that emanated from the cup he had been drinking.

“The inspiration happened to walk into my shop on an otherwise slow Tuesday and has been in my thoughts a great deal since.” Hanzo was gazing at him steadily, the corners of his mouth curled in a small smile. “I would like very much to get to know him better.”

Jesse's breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed thickly. “I-I’d like that too, sweetheart.”

\-------

Hanzo thought his heart might burst out of his chest at Jesse’s answer, just as it nearly had when he had complimented the tea blend: Hanzo had tried to tell himself that his being so nervous was silly, that this was no different from any other time Jesse had tasted something he had made new. Except that it _was_ different. The other times had been suggestions for friends, things he tried so he could judge whether someone else might like it. This was more personal.

“Perhaps I could offer you my number then?” Hanzo’s lingering nerves turned to excitement as Jesse nodded emphatically. He pulled his phone out to open a new contact while Hanzo did the same, typing in Jesse’s name and sliding his phone across the table as Jesse handed his own over for Hanzo to input his number.

Jesse fiddled with the thumb of his prosthetic for a moment once they had gotten their phones back, then seemed to remember he had a mug in front of him to still his hands on. Hanzo could relate, glad that he, too, had something to fidget with. There was a moment of quiet as they each took a drink, and then it was as though whatever gate they had been chatting over had been opened completely, conversation coming easily. They talked about everything and nothing while they finished their tea, and near closing time, Jesse asked almost shyly about the blend itself. Hanzo was happy to tell him.

“Keemun is the burgundy of the tea world, complex and classic, and I mentioned before that I made it into an Earl Grey to further increase its depth. The smoky flavor comes from the lapsang souchong, but I had scented it with vanilla since the first time you asked about it to make it more mellow. The marigold petals are, admittedly, more for show than for flavor, as I wanted the tea itself to reflect the beauty of its inspiration.” Jesse startled at this, his eyes going wide and face flushing red. Hanzo could feel his own face heating up; in this case, talking about the reasons behind each thing in the blend was as personal as the tea itself. “The red peppercorns were the bright spot I had been looking for, a bit of vibrance, and last was the sweetness from the rock sugar.” Hanzo chewed his lip. “I … changed my mind several times on some of the ingredients. Nothing before this one had seemed quite special enough.”

There was silence for a moment after that, Jesse seemingly unable to form words. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as Hanzo watched him through his lashes, a finger tracing the rim of his mug. Eventually, Jesse reached out to rest his fingers on the hand that lay still on the table, and Hanzo automatically turned it over, sliding the mug aside to take Jesse’s hand in both of his own.

Jesse swallowed hard. “Sweetheart, that’s … I mean … that’s the loveliest thing anyone’s ever …” He cleared his throat, and Hanzo squeezed his hand. “It means a lot that you’d put somethin’ together like that. For me. I know you’ve been workin’ on it for awhile, and I just can’t … I just can’t say enough.”

“I am glad you enjoyed it.” Hanzo cleared his own throat, surprised by the extent of the emotion on Jesse’s face. He hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, and wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. “I hoped I would get to share it with you, even if there were a few days I thought I may not be able to after my failed attempt at giving you my number.”

His head snapping up from where he had been gazing at their joined hands, Jesse looked stunned for an entirely different reason. “Wait … what? When was this?”

Well, that confirmed that Jesse had somehow managed to not see it at all. Hanzo huffed a laugh. “They day you stayed late, when we were talking while I was making the Swedish Berry for your boss’ wife. I had written it on your copy of the receipt while you were signing.”

Jesse groaned, tilting his head back as he slapped his prosthetic hand to his forehead and ran it down his face. “You mean I coulda’ had your number three weeks ago if I’d’ve checked my pockets before puttin’ my jeans in the wash?”

“So that is what happened.” Hanzo couldn’t help laughing. “I had worried that you were not as interested as I had hoped.” 

“Don’t need to be worried about that, sweetheart.” He glanced at the time and Hanzo followed suit; the shop closed in less than ten minutes. Jesse stood first. “ Let me help ya pick this up since it’s about time to go home. Think maybe I could take ya out to dinner later this week?” he asked, and his smile was the beautiful ray of sunshine Hanzo remembered from the day they met beneath the lingering scarlet of his face.

Practically giddy, Hanzo stood as well, beginning to gather the empty mugs while Jesse bent to pick up the bowl that had been set out for Oakley. “I would like that very much. What day would be good for you? My schedule is nearly always the same, but I am unsure of yours.”

Setting the bowl on the counter, Jesse rubbed at the back of his neck. “I know Friday’s kinda’ the usual date night, but I’m closin’ that night and dinner would be awful late. Thursday alright?”

“Thursday would be perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tea Facts That Are Actually Just How I Went About Making This Chapter’s Blend:** No lie, much like Hanzo, I’ve been working on this one for awhile. Unlike Hanzo, who knows what he is doing, I have been working on it on and off for nearly a year, and all but one of the final ingredients is different from the first versions (even that one ingredient has had some modifications).
> 
> We talked about the Earl Grey earlier, and the fact that the Keemun Earl Grey was something that Hanzo had to make in-store (and I had to make at home). The lapsang souchong is that last ingredient standing from last year, although by the time we got to the end, it had become vanilla-scented lapsang souchong in a much smaller amount than originally planned. The scenting was done by shutting up a small amount of the tea with a couple of scraped vanilla beans and letting them acquaint for a few weeks. Honestly, this works a lot better with milder teas, like a plain black, as the already-very-strong flavor of the lapsang souchong tends to overpower the vanilla. The vanilla flavor in my version isn’t as strong as I would like yet and the whole vanilla beans are starting to get expensive, but Hanzo wouldn’t have that problem. If vanilla bean powder weren’t so pricey, I’d just roll with that, but he’d probably consider it cheating. (And extract doesn’t work. Believe me, I have tried).
> 
> The red peppercorns (also referred to as pink peppercorns), are actually a fairly mild member of the pepper family. I hadn’t really thought about adding them until I saw them as an available addition while trying to put together something else on Adagio. They affect the aftertaste more than the general flavor of the tea, I think, but they meld with the lapsang souchong much better than the cinnamon I originally had as part of the blend. Cinnamon and lapsang do not taste good together. Bleh.
> 
> The rock sugar is self-explanatory, although I didn’t use a lot, and the yellow flowers are calendula, a member of the marigold family. As Hanzo told Jesse, they’re pretty much for decoration in this blend to balance out the browns of the tea and the sugar with the red from the peppercorns: between the Earl Grey, the lapsang souchong, and the pepper, any flavor they might have added to a milder blend is completely drowned out.
> 
> Since the blend requires some specialized scenting, it’s not really something I’d expect to be able to have made at Adagio or any other site that lets you blend your own tea, although it would probably be possible to make something similar with a different Earl Grey and some other sort of vanilla. I’ve made a bit of it for myself (and at least one gift), but am sorta’ looking at figuring out how to put a little more together at a time (once I get my vanilla straightened out).


End file.
